Death is not the End
by Klaine Lover 101
Summary: Three-Shot. Thor/Loki. Thorki. ThunderFrost. Major spoilers for TDW. Death is not the end - far from it, actually. What happens when Thor finds out that Loki is alive? Full list of warnings inside! Please Review!
1. Loki's Death

**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Pseudo-Incest, Past Lpreg, Lpreg, Major Character Death, _Major Spoilers for TDW_, etc.

**Death is not the End**

All had suddenly become unbearably silent, and an evil blackness had conquered the skies. Black, the color of death.

The commotion slowly died away, and as the dust settled, a panicked scream pierced the uncomfortable silence. An awful knot formed in his chest as he slowly turned, every movement slow and calculated, to find the fallen form of his brother. He was sprawled out on the scorched earth, one hand on his rapidly moving chest as he huffed in smoky air. Jane was with him, and, evidently, was the one that had screamed. Scrambling to her feet and backing away from the fallen god of mischief, Thor noticed the blood that had splashed onto her unnaturally pale face. Loki was hurt.

He was racing across the battlefield before the idea had even fully sunk in, falling to his knees beside the undeniably broken body of his brother, his lover, his life. There was _so much blood_... the rustic crimson fluid covered his chest, his arms, his hands... it was impossible to tell where he was wounded or how badly, but it only made sense that the injury had to be rather severe. When Loki's milky, delirious eyes fell upon him, he offered the bigger warrior a cheap, tremulous smirk. The desired effect was lost, however, by the blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

"Loki... _Loki_..." Thor started to fuss with the front of Loki's armor, attempting to remove it and find the cause of his brother's pain. Loki, however, was battling him every step of the way. "Let me _help_ you, brother! Do you not realize that you're dying?"

"Trust me..." the exertion of forcing out those two words sent him into an awful coughing fit, with blood splattering on his balled fist. When he regained control of himself, he continued, "I am... fully aware of t-that fact."

"Do you _wish_ to die, then? I could not bear it, Loki! What am I to do without you, brother?" Thor was screaming now, mere seconds away from shaking some sense into the battered god.

Clouded green eyes flickered over to Jane, who now stood a considerable distance away. And then, scarcely above a whisper, he forced out, "I believe t-that you will manage without m-me."

Loki's eyes slowly started to flutter closed. "No. _No_!" Thor's thunderous roar slowly brought him back into consciousness. "If this is some sort of sick joke, it is far from funny. We are bonded, Loki! What we share... it is deeper than blood. You cannot die. I won't allow it."

"Y-You t-think you-yourself above l-life and death n-now?" Loki mumbled.

"I am not. But I _am_ aware that you have the ability to heal yourself... but instead, are allowing yourself to die. Why, Loki? Why do you want to die?" Thor inquired.

The trickster sighed, but it was distorted by the blood that had settled in his throat. "B-Because a bond d-doesn't change anything." And then, eyes suddenly growing cold and distant, he used Thor's own words against him, "A-Any hope of r-redemption is lo-lost on me. Y-You do not trust me... even a-after everything."

"Is that any reason to die?" Thor asked, suddenly infuriated.

"W-When y-you were my o-only reason to l-live for? Y-Yes." Loki confessed, weakly raising a hand to wipe the frothing blood from his lips.

Loki stubbornly continued to deny him access to the wound, so instead, Thor lifted the slighter god into his arms and cradled him close, allowing the pale god to rest his cheek on Thor's chest. By this time, Jane had left, acknowledging their need for privacy - or, at least, as much privacy as the open, scorched field would allow. Thor's tears dripped into Loki's soft, mangled locks, his arms shaking as he cradled the slowly dying god. The act of holding the god's dying frame suddenly made it all so much more personal, more _real_. Loki really was going to die, and what hurt the most? The god of mischief didn't even care.

"Y-You love J-Jane." Loki's words had started to slur together, almost as if he were horribly drunk. "You've n-no need for m-me."

"I have every need for you! You are my brother -,"

Loki shook his head meekly, swallowing hard. "No, I-I'm not."

"You are my mate!" This fact Loki could not deny. Their bond was, indeed, much deeper than blood. "You bore me a child - our beautiful Róta! What will I tell her? Will you be so cruel as to rob her, like Malekith robbed us?"

Loki was fading fast, and as he came closer and closer to death, his magic weakened. Soon, he wouldn't be able to save himself, even if he wanted to. "S-She is a s-small child. S-Soon enough, I-I'll b-be no more t-than a name t-to her."

"Why do you think so little of yourself, Loki? Róta absolutely adores you! She will be devastated! How dare you think you mean so little that she would not care that you had died!" Thor's anger was returning... but incredibly short-lived. "_Please_, Loki..." tears dripping down his cheeks now, "save yourself."

"C-Can you not respect t-that I do no-not want t-to?" Loki hissed.

"_Loki_..." Thor's arms tightened around him. The realization that everything he was saying had absolutely not effect on the Frost Giant had finally sunken in, and he felt lower than ever. "If you will not save yourself, then please... tell me why. What fed this misguided conception that I love Jane... when I only love you?"

Loki, leaning forward just a little, whispered into Thor's ear, "I saw you kiss her." Thor's eyes suddenly became dark, "I wanted to kill her... b-but couldn't." A hard swallow, "I w-wasn't a-afraid you'd kill m-me for it, no... I d-don't think I r-really cared a-all that much. But I s-saw it... and no amount of m-magic can u-undo it."

"Loki, you don't -," but here, Loki cut him off.

"Don't t-treat me like a f-fool." Loki whispered, eyes growing heavy. He was past the point of saving. Thor was faced with the cold, hard fact that Loki was going to die. "L-Let me d-die in p-peace."

Thor was sobbing now, his brother's body shaking with the force of it. "I will tell the Allfather of your sacrifice. He will -,"

"I did not do it for him! I did it..."

And that was it. With one last shuddering moan, Loki's eyes fell closed and his body went limp in Thor's arms. Loki was dead. His mate had died protecting the woman that had destroyed everything for them... and all Thor could do was cradle the body that had been left behind. He remembered his harsh words to Loki, how he had so callously torn his love down. He had not meant that he was above redemption, or that there was no hope left for him. Those words had been spoken in anger, in desperation. But Loki did not know that... _would never_ know that. Loki had crossed over, and Thor was left behind to pick up the pieces.

Thunder cackled in the heavens, and rain started to pour down. The icy droplets hit him hard, washing away the blood that coated himself and the broken body of his mate. All of evidence of the tears that he had cried vanished, and he was left, holding a lifeless form that seemed to simply be sleeping. Yes, if only that were the truth! If only he could lean down and press his lips to Loki's, and breathe life back into his precious body, then he would. And he tried. Leaning down, he gently brushed his lips over Loki's bloodstained ones. The unresponsive, cold lips were more than slightly unnerving, and he quickly drew back. Loki was still dead.

Gently, he lowered Loki's body to the ground. His long, dark locks fell in front of his face, the rain streaking down his face like tears. Staring down at Loki's body, Thor felt an unbearable emptiness come over him. Slowly rising to his feet, he took a few steps away from the body. And then, fully turning away, the tears returned with a vengeance. Quickly, he made his way across the field, needing to put as much distance between himself and Loki as possible. If he didn't, he would go with him. All rational thought aside, he would do _anything_ to be with him. But right now... he needed to be strong, even if all he wanted to do was break.

Jane accosted him first. It was hard for him to look at her, after what Loki had said. "What happened?" But she didn't need to ask. She could see it in his eyes.

"He's dead." Thor said, before continuing on his way. He needed to leave... He just needed to get away.

* * *

Thor left the Throne Room - it felt weird, having denied the throne that he had always wanted, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. Róta had been brought into the Great Hall to wait for him. Her attendant offered him a sympathetic smile, before smoothing a hand over the little girl's soft black curls. The young goddess of discord was playing with one of her dolls - one that Loki had created for her. It could walk and talk, and had caused quite a few scares in the middle of the night. At that particular moment, she was curling the doll's pretty blond locks around her stubby little finger.

The girl's attendant made her way over to Thor, "Master Odinson." She curtseyed, smiling sadly. "I am terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Sefa." Thor nodded. "How is Róta doing today?"

A frown, "Not well. There was a... _confrontation _in the Royal Gardens today. Those still resentful of Master Laufeyson have apparently passed on said beliefs to their children. One such child spoke out to Róta today, and..."

"What has she done?" Thor asked, almost afraid to know.

"She put a curse on him that removed his tongue, sir." Sefa said softly. Casting one last look at Róta, she continued, "She came crying to me, saying how he had mocked Master Laufeyson. And so she punished him." A sigh, "I tried to convince her to remove the curse, but she wouldn't dare."

Thor shook his head. "A miniature Loki, through and through." Just the mention of his fallen mate brought tears to his eyes.

"I would not mention what happened to Loki tonight." Sefa warned. "In her current mood, there's no telling what she'd do."

Thor offered her a weak smile. "She's only six. I think that I can handle her."

Taking that as her cue to leave, Sefa left the two of them alone. Thor entered the Great Hall and took a seat next to Róta, placing a hand on the tiny girl's shoulder. Slowly, she turned to face him, her fiery green eyes locking with his red-rimmed blue. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Loki, right down to her thin, petal pink lips. It hurt to look at her, remembering what had transpired mere hours before. After several seconds of staring, Róta cracked a small smile, dropping her dolly on the bench and climbing into Thor's lap. She felt so tiny and light in his arms.

She set her tiny head on his chest, and he wrapped his muscular arms around her little body. The situation bore an uncanny resemblance to how he had cradled a dying Loki, and he felt the tears return with renewed vigor. Róta felt his body was it trembled beneath her and looked up, offering him a quizzical glance. There was no way that he could hide the truth from her. At six, she was wise beyond her years, and he knew that she could see it in his eyes. Something was horribly wrong. And, at the lack of her other father's presence, it undoubtedly had something to do with Loki.

"I have something to tell you, darling." Thor mumbled, smoothing a hand over her loose curls. Green eyes met his again, and he swallowed hard. "You know that there was a big battle tonight, right?" A nod. "Well, your Daddy... he did something very brave. And because of that, he won't be coming home tonight."

Anger suddenly flashed in the six-year-olds eyes. "Daddy in jail?"

"No, darling... no." Thor swallowed hard, admitting the painful truth for the second time that day. "He's dead."

As it turned out, Sefa had nothing to worry about in the way of a violent reaction. The goddess of discord's face crumbled and tears started to collect in her eyes. She was trembling, not unlike Thor, and the god of thunder barely had enough time to pull her close before she broke down into screaming sobs. The pillars of the Great Hall tossed ash and cinders down to the floor, and the very foundation of the castle shook... but everything held steady. Thor rubbed soothing circles into the small of her back, barely containing his own choked sobs. Because Loki was dead... and nothing was ever going to be the same again.

* * *

**A/N: **So, be sure to let me know what you think. This is part 1/3.

Róta - "to stir, overturn, tear; bring disorder".


	2. Loki's 'Funeral'

**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Pseudo-Incest, Past Lpreg, Lpreg, Major Character Death, _Major Spoilers for TDW_, etc.

**A/N:** A special thank you to all those who took the time to review the last section! Your comments are much appreciated!

**Death is not the End**

Róta had cried herself to sleep. The rapid fluctuations of her emotions had done little for the once beautiful Great Hall, as various sections had been reduced to little more than piles of dust. But as she slumbered now, her dolly clutched in her little arms, she looked about as dangerous as a church mouse. Carefully, Thor rose to his feet, taking care not to jostle the tiny body too much. Her head rested on his shoulder, black curls fawning over his still-wet armor. The dolly tumbled from her arms, hitting the floor with a soft _thud_. Thor noted with dismay that the doll didn't move, didn't speak. The magic was gone... just like Loki.

He couldn't bring himself to turn around and pick up the doll. Clutching the little one closer, he made his way down the otherwise abandoned corridor, heading in the direction of the Royal Bedchambers. The bedchamber that he _should_ be sharing with Loki, celebrating a valiant victory with a good tumble in the sheets. Now, everything had changed. Pushing open the heavy oak doors with his free hand, he entered the spacious chamber. The room, marked by the rich emerald décor that filled it, had never felt more unwelcoming. Slowly, he made his way across the room, feet sinking into the plush emerald carpet, to place Róta on the soft, warm bed.

The room had certainly been Loki's safe haven. Beneath an awe-inspiring picture window, which overlooked the Royal Gardens, stood an equally commanding four-poster bed. Hanging from the rich oak pillars were heavy velvet curtains, which were currently pulled aside to reveal a goose-feather stuffed mattress, covered in a green satin sheet and fleece blanket. Off to the right was a desk, which held various magical items, including Loki's favorite book of spells. Beside that, the door to Róta's nursery. Next to the door, there were various shelves lined with different magical items Loki had yet to finish, and now, never would.

It was no longer the safe haven that it had once been. Now, all it was, was a constant reminder of what he had once had, and had now lost. He slowly undressed, letting his blood-stained armor fall to the floor. Dressing in a simple night-shirt, he lazily made his way toward the bed, feeling in no way inclined to climb in. But he forced himself to sit down on the mattress, to climb beneath the blankets, and to pull little Róta closer, so that her tiny head rested on his chest. Memories of himself and Loki lying in bed, Róta cuddled between them, plagued his mind. Sleep did not come easily that night.

* * *

Planning the funeral for the most hated man in all of Asgard proved to be a rather difficult task. Thor was met with conflict from all sides - for political reasons, the funeral couldn't be held in the palace; for economic reasons (and, secretly, to further the hidden political agenda), he would be denied the benefits of a royal funeral; and just out of plain distaste for him, he would not be allowed to be buried in the family cemetery. Not that they had a body to bury, anyhow. Thor had returned to the scene of the battle to find the body missing, which, in and of itself, was quite insulting. What _did_ he have for the funeral? Unlikely comrades: Jane and Darcy.

They would meet in the abandoned Mess Hall after supper to discuss the plans. Róta sat on Thor's knee, reading a children's book on Asgardian history. "It will be difficult, without a body." Jane pointed out, her voice soft, so as not to disturb the small child. "You can't bury him or scatter the ashes."

Thor raised an eyebrow. "What ashes? He is not ash, but -,"

Here, Darcy interjected, explaining, "It's a human thing. Sometimes, humans prefer to be cremated, or have their bodies burned."

Before Thor could respond, Jane continued, "Which can't be done, because we don't have a body. You could always do a memorial plaque. Erect it on the battlefield where he died, in his honor." Thor did not seem pleased with the idea. "Or, instead of a funeral, have a memorial service."

At this, Thor sighed. "It is not the type of service that woes me, or even the fact that Loki's body has vanished. Death in battle is most noble, and regarded with highest honor in Asgard. Many times, warriors sacrifice their physical beings in battle - or their bodies are placed on a boat, and flaming arrows are fired at it."

"Like a Viking funeral?" Darcy inquired. Róta continued with her little book, quickly taking in the language which was unfamiliar to Jane and Darcy.

"What is a 'Viking'?" Was Thor's eloquent response.

"Never mind." Darcy quickly brushed it off. Instead, she continued, "If it's not the type of service or Loki's absent body, what is it?"

"As I said, death in battle is most noble, and regarded with highest honor in Asgard." Thor brushed a hand through Róta's curls. "Loki died defending _you_, Jane," at this, Róta's head snapped up, "in an act of compassion we originally though him incapable of. But that does not matter. Still, he is despised."

Róta's manic green eyes met Jane's brown, and the woman was suddenly filled with an unexplainable fear. "_You're_ the reason that my Daddy can't come home?" Her voice was like nails on a chalk board, and the very foundation of the room started to tremble. "He's _dead_ because of _you_?"

"Róta!" Thor's arm tightened around her middle. "That's enough!"

A tense silence followed. For a moment, Jane was sure that Róta would defy Thor's orders and continue her temper tantrum. But instead, she just... caved. Tears bubbling in her pretty green eyes, she broke out of Thor's arms and raced out of the Mess Hall, the heavy doors slamming closed behind her. Thor watched her leave, his face an unreadable mask. Silently, Jane wondered how often such outbursts occurred - all the while, knowing deep down that this could not be the only time something like this had occurred. Thor stared after her a few moments longer, before slowly returning his attention to a still-stunned Jane and Darcy.

Jane offered a soft, huffy, "I don't think that she likes me very much..."

Thor shook his head. "No, I do not believe that. She's just... she and Loki shared a very special connection. When she was a babe, and I would try to hold her, she would cry. And her cry... it could bring the very palace we now sit in down to the ground. But when Loki would hold her... she would fall silent almost immediately."

"This must be like a knife in the heart for her, poor little thing." Darcy looked after her, feeling for the temperamental six-year-old.

Thor looked down at the table. "The first year of life for a royal baby is crucial to their development. If they are to develop abilities, it would be in this time period. It was also during this time that Loki foolishly cut off the warrior, Sif's, hair. His screams of anguish as his mouth was stitched closed could be heard _everywhere_."

"You mean that she developed such destructive power... _defending_ _him_?" Jane was more than slightly skeptical.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Thor countered, totally serious.

"With all of the stuff that I've been exposed to in the last three days, I'd believe that the sun was blue." Darcy said.

"She'll go and blow off some steam... perhaps destroy half of the palace while she's at it... and I will find her in the Royal Bedchambers, curled up in Loki's cape." Thor said. "It's not that she does not favor you, Jane. It is that her father died and, right now, she associates that with _you_."

Jane flinched at Thor's harsh tone. In all the time that she had known him - which, admittedly, wasn't all that long - he had never been anything less than cordial, if not a little out-of-touch with reality. But now that she saw _his world_, she could understand how it was possible for him to be so out-of-touch with reality. But this... this was an entirely different situation. The brother that she had once been so sure Thor hated, was now dead. And now, she was discovering that the relationship between Thor and Loki was much deeper than mere brotherhood, and that there was a child in the mix - a child that _clearly_ disliked her.

"Now, about this... 'memorial service'." Thor attempted to speak the unfamiliar words, which sounded strange with his heavy accent. "It is pointless, if his sacrifice is not honored. Everyone hates him, is _terrified_ of him, because they _do not know_. And, what is worse, they do not _want_ to know."

"Then we'll have to take the memorial service to somewhere where they _have_ to care." Darcy proposed, earning odd looks from the others at the table. "Loki is despised by the Frost Giants, right?" An uneasy nod from Thor. "Then we have the memorial service on Jotunheim."

"Do you have any idea what you are proposing?" Thor asked, clearly thinking her to be absolutely out of her head.

She nodded enthusiastically, continuing, "Yes, and it's just crazy enough to work."

The idea _was_ crazy. When Odin took Loki from Jotunheim and raised him as an Asgardian, he officially named him a traitor of the Frost Giants. If he were to return to the realm, they would probably murder him upon first realizing who he was. But Róta... she was a different story. A key to the diplomacy that both realms craved. Loki was supposed to bring it about, and maybe, in a way, he did. Róta, a child of both realms, was unbelievably valuable to both races. The Frost Giants, who were slowly dying out, held onto her for her bloodline. The Asgardian warriors, who were craving peace with the Frost Giants, held onto her for her political relevance.

Because of her, Loki became relevant to the Frost Giants once again. Loki might have been virtually meaningless to the Asgardians, who seemed almost thankful that he would no longer haunt their streets, but his death meant an end of creatures like Róta. If anything happened to that child, both sides would lose their perceived political advantage. Darcy proposed that they take the case to the Frost Giants, and ask if they could bury him on Jotunheim. A crazy proposition, and a dangerous one as well. But it was just crazy enough to work... and Thor was up to the challenge.

* * *

"He's... gone." Róta whispered softly, clutching Thor's hand tightly as she tried to battle back the tears.

"He's in a better place, darling." Thor assured her. He couldn't tell her about the way Loki's body had looked on the scorched earth, or how Loki had been so convinced that she would forget him, like he was meaningless. "You don't have to watch. Just close your eyes."

"N-No. I have to... have to watch. Because Daddy isn't on the boat. He's not... He's not..." and then she broke down, tears streaking down her chubby little cheeks. Suddenly overcome, she turned and buried her face in Thor's tunic.

Jane and Darcy stood a few feet away, watching the scene unfold. It was a small memorial-esque Viking funeral. They had successfully managed to convince the Frost Giants to host it, and they stood around now, keeping considerable distance from the vulnerable humans. A boat floated on half-frozen water, the wood burning with a brilliant, orange fire. It was almost as if his body was in that boat, floating away into oblivion upon serene waters. When the boat finally floated out of sight, Thor picked the little girl up and cradled her close, making his way back toward Jane and Darcy.

Struggling with his own emotions, he simply managed a bleak, "It's over." And it truly was.


End file.
